


Heavenly Bodies

by KittyleFay



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Billy pines like a mofo, Blow Jobs, Catholic, Catholic School, Catholic Schoolboy!Steve, Confessional Sex, Confessions, Dirty Talk, I’m going to hell, M/M, Masturbation, Priest Kink, Priest!Billy, Steve is kind of a slut, who wants to join me?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-05 12:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17324906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyleFay/pseuds/KittyleFay
Summary: “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” says a soft voice. “It’s been…well, I don’t know how long it’s been since my last confession.”Father Billy knows that voice. It’s the voice that has haunted his dreams ever since he set foot in Hawkins, fresh off the seminary. He swallows when he turns to see those beautiful big brown eyes twinkling at him in a way that begs him to pray for mercy.A.K.A. The priest fic that no one asked for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers: 1. All characters mentioned in this story are of legal age. Just getting that out of the way 2. I realise that this is very out of character, but Billy's bad boy character will be referenced, trust me. 3. I never went to Catholic school, so please don't tell me that I'm going to hell. I already know.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” says a soft voice. “It’s been…well, I don’t know how long it’s been since my last confession.”

Father Billy knows that voice. It’s the voice that has haunted his dreams ever since he set foot in Hawkins, fresh off the seminary. He swallows when he turns to see those beautiful big brown eyes twinkling at him in a way that begs him to pray for mercy.

Steve Harrington has never gone unnoticed in the parish. He is a rebellious boy, as most are by the age of eighteen, and an attractive one at that. Billy hates to admit even to himself that Steve is a pretty boy. He cannot deny it, however, as he does see the boy daydreaming through class and service, strutting through the hallways, smoking in the hidden corners of the school grounds, and–God help him–in his own thoughts and dreams. 

“Tell me,” says the young priest. “What sins do you have to confess?”

The younger boy clears his throat. “I have impure thoughts, Father. I think of men and women. Mostly men. Well, one man.”

Father Billy furrows his brow. He should be telling the boy that it is a sin to lust after other men. Instead, he asks: “One man in particular?”

“Yes. I see him in the parish and I think of all the things that I want to do to him; with him. I think of what he might look like naked and hard. I think of kissing the life out of him and touching him everywhere. I think of taking his cock into my mouth. I think of how he might feel inside me.”

Father Billy resists the urge to cross himself. “Tell me about him, then.”

“He’s a priest,” Steve explains. Father Billy chokes on his own breath. “He’s younger than the others and he hasn’t been in the parish for very long, but he makes me want to worship _him_ instead of God. When he reads the sermons, I imagine how he’d look under the cassock. When he hands out the communion, I want to kneel before him and feel him in my mouth. When I see him in class, I want him to bend me over and lick my hole and stretch me open and…”

“Steve,” Father Billy interrupts because he knows that another word will be the end of him. “You know that I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“It is against God’s plan, you know that.”

“Then you think I’m an abomination?”

“It isn’t my place to judge; only God can may do that. If you regret your sins…”

Steve only laughs. “Funnily enough, Father, I don’t.”

* * *

Father Billy prays that night and every other night after that. He prays after he sees Steve at confession. He prays after he offers Steve spiritual advice. He prays after he locks eyes with Steve during service. He prays after he catches Steve in the library with his hand up Nancy Wheeler’s skirt. He prays after he catches Steve in the boys’ room on his knees before Jonathan Byers.

“Lord,” he prays. “Forgive me.”

He prays and prays and prays yet finds no answer but a dream.

The dream, of course, is of Steve Harrington. He stands, naked and hard, at the foot of Father Billy’s bed and crawls over him with the grace of a cat. It isn’t long before Billy realizes that he too is naked and hard. Soon, they’re kissing, their limbs are entwined, and it feels like nothing else. By the time Father Billy gives into Steve’s tight heat, he realizes that he is no longer in his own room, but in the church before an audience of people.

Neil is among them.

Father Billy wakes with a start. He is shaking like a leaf, cold with sweat, and as hard as iron. When he catches his breath, he tries his damnedest to sing his erection to sleep with no avail. His thoughts of Steve Harrington won’t let him. 

All he can do is fantasize about him as he touches himself with a prayer on his lips.

* * *

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

Father Billy feels his stomach jolt. “Steve, what a surprise! Come in, have a seat.”

Steve smiles, as he walks into the office. Father Billy wants to hate the way he sways his hips.

“Sister Joyce said I should see you,” he says, taking his seat with parted legs. “I kept my communion wafer.”

“Oh?” Father Billy raises an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

“Because I didn’t confess all of my sins this morning.”

It takes all of Father Billy’s strength to keep from cursing. “You do know that the congregation absolves your sins just before Eucharist, right? So, when we say: ‘I am not worthy to receive…’”

“I didn’t do it because I didn’t feel worthy. I did it to see you.”

The office is silent for an entire minute before Father Billy stands from his desk to lock the door and close the curtains. Steve stands before him, already showing evidence of arousal beneath his uniform trousers. 

“We can’t do this,” Father Billy tells him. “It’s against God’s plan…”

“So you keep saying.”

“…and you’re a student.”

“I’m of age and you’re not _that_ much older than I am.”

“That’s not my point. It’s wrong.”

Steve now has Father Billy in a corner. “If it’s so wrong,” he purrs into the priest’s ear. “Why do you keep staring at me? I see the way you look at me during service and in class and I know that you got hard when you caught me with Nancy and with Jonathan. I could see it. I bet you jerked off afterward, too.”

Father Billy bites his tongue.

“You did, didn’t you?”

He bites harder.

“Did you?”

There’s blood in his mouth now.

“Did you jerk off to me?”

Father Billy finally opens his mouth, but his voice is so weak. “Yes, but I…”

Father Billy’s mouth is stopped by Steve’s before another word can be uttered and, in a moment of weakness, he responds. Their lips move against one another and soon make way for tongues. Against his own will, Father Billy relishes in the way Steve’s hands move against his body. It should not feel so good to be held so close, to be kissed so deeply, to feel…

_“No!”_

Father Billy pushes Steve to the other end of the room. Both their erections are shamefully evident now. Steve only manages to take two steps towards Father Billy before he is left alone without another word.

* * *

Father Billy nearly shuts the door on Steve when he sees him at confession again.

“Billy,” he says before he has the chance. It isn’t Father Billy anymore; just Billy. “Please hear me out.” 

“Unless you want to make a confession, Harrington, you better leave right now.”

“I do want a confession. I want _you_ to make a confession to _me_.”

Billy’s hands ball into fists. “Get out.”

“No.”

“I said: get out!”

“And I said: no!”

“Harrington, I’m warning you…”

“I’m not leaving until you make a confession to me.”

The boy is stubborn, Billy will give him that. Clearing his throat and relaxing his hands, he asks: “What do you want to hear?”

“I want to know how you feel about me.”

Billy’s eyes widen and lock with Steve’s for the first time since they kissed. 

“I see the way you look at me, Billy, just like I look at you. When I kissed you, you kissed me back and you were just as hard as I was. I know that you wanted more and still do. I just want to hear it from your mouth.”

Billy sighs heavily. 

“I confess,” he says in a broken voice. “I do look at you and I do have feelings for you. I have since I came to the parish, but I never wanted to. I swore when I made my chastity vows that I would never lust after another man again, but then I saw you and you were so beautiful that there wasn’t a day that passed that I didn't pray for my soul. Seeing you with others only made it worse and when you kissed me…God help me, it was better than I’ve ever dreamed!”

Billy’s heart stops when he hears the unzipping of Steve’s pants. He shouldn’t look. He shouldn't gawk at the younger boy’s considerable size. He shouldn’t watch with wide eyes as he touches himself. He shouldn’t be so hard underneath the cassock. 

But he is and he does.

“So,” Steve grunts. “You dream of me?”

“Every night.”

“And when I asked you if you jerked off to me…”

“I did.”

“And you wanted it.”

“I did. I do.”

“Did you– _oh!_ –did you come, Father?”

Billy swallows the growing lump in his throat. “Yes.”

Within a second, Steve is gone and Billy is only momentarily mournful of his presence until the door before him opens. Steve shuts the door behind him and straddles Billy, capturing him in a heated kiss. 

It’s a different kiss to their last. There is the same wanton affection, but there is a strange tenderness that makes Billy want to cry. Steve’s hands are so soft, clearly not the hands of a worker, yet no less skilled. They explore as much of the priest’s body as they can over the cassock; his lips, his neck, his chest. Soon, Steve is crouching between Billy’s legs, caring less of what little space he has and more of making his way through the cassock. Before long, he is exposed. He is already painfully hard and wet to the tip. It only takes mere seconds for Steve to take Billy into his mouth.

“Oh, God!”

His mouth feels like heaven and hell all at once. Lost in the wet warmth before he can so much as utter a prayer, Billy takes one hand between his teeth to keep from screaming and the other in Steve’s hair, watching as the boy makes such a wicked act seem like an act of worship. The image alone makes him twitch, elated by the way those full lips wrap around the tip of his cock and how those soft hands grip the length with an expert skill. Billy knows that he is at his end when he sees Steve touching himself.

Billy’s climax is quick, though nonetheless powerful. Steve takes every last drop of him with the insatiable thirst of a man in a desert. Before too long, he releases Billy from his lips with a loud pop and reaches for his hand, guides it to his cock and stroking him until he comes on the cassock.

Christ, what have they done?

“God forgive me!”

Semen drips from Steve’s wicked smile. “He isn’t here, Father.”


	2. Chapter 2

This goes on for some time. Billy has long since resisted his desire for Steve, much to his own shame. During mass, the secret glances they share are enough to make his cock twitch under his cassock. It’s during the communion, however, that he instantly hardens when those soft lips wrap around his thumb when the communion wafer is given. He loves confession the most, when he can discreetly palm his cock to every lewd fantasy that the boy has of him. When he is feeling most daring, Billy will open the door and have Steve on his lap, taking either a hard cock into his mouth or three fingers into his hole.

“I want more,” Steve tells Billy one day. “I want all of you.” 

That’s when their trysts turn to an affair. Billy begins to feel like a married man with Steve as his lover. They may well be lovers with how often they see each other and not only for carnal reasons. Billy will never admit it, even to himself, but he has grown fond of Steve. 

For this reason alone, he knows that he is bound for hell. 

* * *

They get together on Christmas, since neither of them have anyone to go home to. Billy said his last goodbye to his family the moment his father was buried. He hasn’t heard from his step-mother or step-sister ever since. Steve’s parents are spending their holiday at their own private cottage and assuming their son is spending his with friends. Just more time and space to corrupt a Man of God. 

Their first time is fucking. Plain and simple; rough and raw. Bruises and bite marks are scattered across their naked bodies before they even make it to the bed. Once they do, Steve is pinned down by the scruff of his neck as Billy fingers him open. He is so tight around the first digit yet begs for more, almost as if the burn of the stretch is getting him off more than the first stroke at his prostate. Every now and then, Billy will lean over to use his tongue as well as his fingers to make Steve moan. The cries he utters in response could be heard from outside. Before long, Steve is on all fours with Billy crashing inside him at an erratic pace until they come roaring like animals. 

When it’s over, all that can be heard is heavy breathing. Both young men lie side by side in a puddle of their own sweat and semen. Billy whispers a prayer of forgiveness until he hears a metallic click, followed by the unusual scent of burning herbs. Steve’s eyes are on him as he takes his first hit.

“You really shouldn’t smoke those.”

Steve laughs coolly. “You sound like my parents.”

“Do they know you like boys?”

“They don't know shit.”

Billy rests his head on the ball of his hand. “Why aren’t you with them?”

“Why should I be?”

“It’s Christmas. You should be with your family at Christmas.”

A smile grows on Steve’s still kiss-swollen lips. “So should you, but here we are.”

Billy’s cheeks grow warm. “Surely, they miss you, though.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

Steve exhales a puff of white smoke with a casual shrug. “Dad doesn’t miss me when he’s out fooling around with fuck knows how many women. Mom doesn’t miss me when she’s at the bar with her friends all night. They don’t miss me when they’re away on business for a week. They don’t miss me when they’re on a private vacation for another week. I’m pretty sure they don’t miss me today.” 

“Don’t you miss them?”

Steve fiddles with the joint between his fingers and stares at the fading cloud it creates, almost as if he is hypnotized. He stays that way for some time until he sighs out an answer: “Sometimes.”

Billy begins to feel his heart grow heavy for Steve. He always seems such a lively boy with so much love to give, but who loves him back? Do his parents love him? Does Nancy Wheeler? Does Jonathan Byers? Does anyone love this beautiful boy?

Billy reaches to stroke Steve’s cheek, who responds in the way that a cat does when he’s being stroked.

“You’re lonely,” he says softly. 

“So are you.”

“I’m a priest. I’m bound for loneliness. I’ve got no other choice.”

Steve rolls to his side, facing Billy and stroking his cheek in turn. “I don’t think that’s entirely true. If you didn’t have a choice, you wouldn’t have made the decision to see me today.”

 _I had to see you,_ Billy almost says, but he bites his tongue. Instead, he responds with a burning kiss. His head is already light when he tastes the hash on Steve’s lips.

* * *

The second time is having sex. Billy is on his back while Steve sits astride him. He moves in such a way that would make even the most skilled dancer envious and he is beautiful like this, naked, hard, and fucking himself on the priest’s cock. They tend to the still fresh wounds of their previous coupling with gentle hands. Steve caresses the bruise he left on Billy’s neck. Billy strokes the bite mark he left on Steve’s chest. Their hands are everywhere until one reaches Steve’s cock, stroking him until he comes. Billy follows soon after. 

They hold one another in their afterglow this time, which they’ve never done, and it feels strangely more intimate than when Billy was balls deep inside of Steve.  When they lie beside each other, the sound of another blaze wakes Billy from his euphoria. 

“Again?” 

Steve grins and looks almost like a dragon as more smoke passes his lips. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Billy bites his lip for as long as he can before snatching the joint from Steve’s hand. “Oh, fuck it!”

As Billy savours his first drag in years, Steve can only watch in awe. “You smoke?”

“Long time ago. I haven't had a joint since I saw Metallica back in California.”

“Fucking really?”

“Fucking really. I was seventeen. My old friends and I would always go to concerts on the boardwalk and after every concert, we’d sneak into the fairground even after it was closed, so we could eat, drink, and get high. I was always a fan of Metallica, so you can imagine how excited I was. So excited that I got a little _too_ high and ended up streaking to _The Four Horsemen.”_

Both the boy and the priest burst out laughing. Steve was wiping away a tear when he finally found his ability to speak again. “Did you really do that or are you  just making that up?”

“I really did do that and I don’t recommend it.”

Steve rests his head on the ball of his hand and watches Billy take another hit. His smile softens. “I like you like this.”

Billy furrows his brow. “What? Stoned?”

“No, just letting your hair down. It’s hard to picture you as anything other than a priest, but you seem happier when you let it go and I kinda like it on you.”

It’s Billy’s turn to laugh now. “You may not believe me, but I was quite the rebel before I became a priest.”

Steve’s eyes go as wide as saucers. “No!”

“I _was_. I had a Camaro, I wore leather, I had an earring, listened to metal, I smoked a pack a day, I was crowned the keg king in high school, I even had a mullet if you can believe that, and–I’m not proud of this–I _did_ have a reputation for picking on other kids. I also had a tendency to sleep around with pretty boys like you.”

“So, what changed?”

Billy takes a long and deep breath. “I got caught.”

Steve furrows his brow and rests his head against the ball of his hand.

“There was this boy,” Billy continues. “I don’t even remember his name, it was so long ago, but I met him at a concert. We had a bit too much to drink, so I didn’t really think too clearly about taking him home that night. My step-sister, Maxine, caught us in the act. I made her swear not to tell because God only knew what my father would do if he found out. Unfortunately, he did. He gave me a good beating the next time he saw me and sent me to a conversion camp to straighten me out. I guess it only half-worked because even though I never did turn to women, but I _did_ turn to the Bible. It distracted me from other men, at least. I read it from cover to cover during my stay. This might surprise you, but it actually doesn’t say as much about homosexuality as you might think.”

“So how come you never brought that up?” Steve asks.

Bill shrugs. “I guess a part of me still believed it was true.”

“What was?”

“That my only salvation was to become a priest. I could never love a woman, so if I couldn’t love a man, the only one I can dedicate my life to is God. Otherwise, I’m damned.”

When Billy finally brings himself to look Steve in the eye, the bright smile that he’s grown to like so much is now gone, but he soon feels a soft hand grazing his cheek. 

“You’re not damned,” he says. “I don’t think you realize this, but when I say that I want you, it’s not because you’re a priest, because that means I can’t have you. I love what you are, what you do, and how much you care. You have so much fire in you and I love that, even though you keep it bottled up. You’re perfect just the way you are and whatever those assholes said or did to you to make you feel otherwise, especially your dad, they’re wrong.”

Billy feels his eyes burn and his throat swell. Steve’s words are so unfamiliar to him, as if he is speaking an entirely different language, yet each and every one of them feels like a punch to the gut. Even the kiss he leaves on his wrist feels like a brand on his skin. Soon, he is holding him and it feels like he is strangling him. Everything hurts. That’s when he realizes that he is crying.

Still, Steve whispers softly into his ear: “You’re not damned. You’re perfect.”

* * *

The third time is making love. There is no other word for it. Steve lies on his back as Billy rocks into him. They move so slowly, feeling no need to rush towards climax. They think nothing of the way Steve clenches around Billy’s cock or the way Billy finds just the right spot to make Steve’s head spin. None of that matters to them. All that matters is the way Billy peppers chaste kisses on Steve’s neck, the way Steve gently runs his fingertips up and down Billy’s back, and the way their fingers tangle so tightly when they hold hands.

The world around them seems to disappear when they come together. 

Billy doesn’t pray for forgiveness as Steve falls asleep in his arms. Instead, he can only stroke his hair and watch as he sleeps. He looks so peaceful and Billy finds himself wondering what he is dreaming about. Does he dream of flying through the heavens on angel wings? Does he dream of faraway lands with thrilling adventures and happy endings? Does he dream of a pretty woman promising him paradise? Whatever it is, it must be good because he is smiling. 

He is so beautiful when he smiles. 

Steve is beautiful. Perhaps too beautiful for someone like Billy. Men like Billy are bound for damnation. They get kicked out of their homes to sell themselves for money before they either die by a stranger’s hands or of AIDS. Men like Steve are destined for greatness. They go to university where they build successful careers and meet a pretty lady that they can marry and have children with. 

Billy finds himself guilty for wanting the latter with Steve, even though he knows that it will never happen. He will never go out to fancy dinners and watch movies with him. He will never go down on one knee before him asking to spend the rest of their lives together. He will never slip a gold ring on his finger and vow to have and hold him until death do they part. He will never move in with him to a big house in the suburbs. He will never watch their children playing with a dog in the back lawn. He will never grow old with him and die in his arms. And yet he wants nothing more in the world. 

God help him, he’s falling in love.


	3. Chapter 3

“This has to stop.”

Steve’s eyes go wide for a moment until he shakes his head and laughs. “Look, I know I’ve been a pain in the ass lately, but did you really have to call me into the office just for a couple of smokes in the…?”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about us.”

Steve’s usually bright and boyish smile falls flat in an instant. “You don’t mean that.”

Billy’s voice grows weak. “I’m afraid I do, Steve. I can’t…I…I’ve requested a transfer.”

“No,” Steve chokes. He suddenly stumbles from his seat and falls to his knees before Billy. His eyes are frantic, begging to be met, as his arms wrap around his waist. Billy can’t even bring himself to look at Steve. “No, no, no…”

“Steve, please don’t make this harder.”

“You think this isn’t hard enough for me?”

“I need to get away from you.”

“No!” Steve’s hands are firmly on Billy’s face now, forcing him to look him in the eyes, which are now bright with fresh tears. “You can’t. I…I love you.”

Billy’s heart feels like it’s about to burst from his chest when he feels Steve’s lips firmly close on his. He resists the urge to respond.

“I love you, Billy, and I know you love me too.”

“Steve…”

“I know you do! I knew it on Christmas. You can’t tell me that didn’t mean anything. Just tell me. Tell me you love me!” 

Billy’s throat is too swollen to find his voice and his tongue too heavy to form words. He can barely even see through the tears that burn his eyes. “I…I l–I can’t.”

* * *

The train ride is agony. Billy is choking in his dog collar when he sees Steve at the station with his hands in his pockets as if he’s been waiting for him. He doesn’t dare look at him. Instead, he avoids his eyes and passes him as swiftly as he’d pass any stranger. Once he’s on the train, he tries not to look out the window. He tries not to notice the boy watching him. He tries not to watch him follow the train. He tries not to cry when he notices him running after him until he is left behind. 

“I’m so sorry,” he chokes half to himself and half to Steve.

* * *

St. Peter’s is a decent parish. Father Billy finds a home there, he makes several friends, and he works hard, and he becomes a good name to the community. He likes it, but he doesn’t love it. His home is often empty, his friends are fair-weather at best, he sleep-walks through work, and above all things he fears he doesn’t deserve such a good name. Not with how many nights he’s fallen into to the most sinful dreams of soft brown eyes. Not with how many times he’s had to drink himself to sleep just to drown out those dreams. Not with how many times he’s looked at pretty brown-eyed boys in ways that he shouldn’t. Certainly not with how many pretty brown-eyed boys have shared his bed.

One day, a pretty boy with brown hair and brown eyes confesses to having impure thoughts about men. Having taken the communion wine, Father Billy tells him the story of how he too had such impure thoughts, though not of men, but boys; one boy, in particular. He tells the story of how dearly he loved this boy and gave into his desires for him, but soon left him. The pretty boy listens to his story with such a quizzical look. 

“Why did you leave him?” he asks.

“Because I loved him enough to save him.”

The pretty boy goes to the priest’s bed that night. It’s awkward and clumsy. Father Billy has all but drunk himself blind on the stolen communion wine to the point that he is almost numb to the pretty boy’s shaking hands and inexperienced mouth. The pretty boy is eager for the priest’s touch and even lets him fuck him. Father Billy then takes the pretty boy from behind and comes with another’s name on his lips. 

“Steve!”

The pretty boy’s name is Michael. The next pretty boy is named Sam, the next is named Paul, the next Marco, and the next Dwayne. David proves to be Billy’s downfall. 

Billy is fired from the parish just a day after his tryst with David. He is given a week to pack his things and find another job and another place, though the parting “good luck” was a cold one. Good luck finding another parish that would take a priest who fucks young men. 

* * *

Years pass, though Billy loses count of them. He earns his keep at a job that he hates and still continues the pattern of drinking himself to sleep, often with other men. Particularly young men with brown eyes, dark hair, and pretty faces, preferably altogether. He often finds them at a bar that makes a brothel look like a four-star restaurant, takes them to the mess that is his apartment, fucks them on his bug-ridden bed, and never sees them again. Some leave him a number that he will never call, others will stay until morning only to be met with an empty bed without so much as a cup of coffee. It’s cruel, he will admit that, but it hurts less.

He still keeps his dog collar around his neck, which can either make or break a night of closeness with a stranger. He still reads his Bible, though the stories now seem complicated puzzles and the words a scatter of a million little pieces. He still holds his rosary, though he can barely remember his prayers. He still loves God, though he wonders if He loves him back. 

One night, he finds a young man at the bar with brown eyes, dark hair, and a pretty face. The cheap wine clouds his judgement enough to approach the young man, touch his thigh, play with his hair, call him Steve.

“You got the wrong guy,” the young man says. 

His voice brings tears to Billy’s eyes, causing him to fall into his arms. 

“Steve,” he sobs. “Please forgive me!”

The young man pushes him to the ground. The bartender tells him to leave. 

Billy stumbles his way out of the bar. He pays no attention to the footsteps behind him. Soon, his back hits a brick wall and he sees the pretty young man for a mere moment before all he hears is a sickening _crack!_ His body suddenly becomes heavy and he falls to the hard ground, nearly choking on the taste of his own blood in his mouth. He hears the muffled cries of "faggot!" echoing in the dark. As he lies there, he does nothing to ease the throbbing in his head, the chill in his bones, or the blurring of his vision. 

“Our father,” he chokes on what could be his last breath, “who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make this three chapters, but by the time I was half-way through the third part I knew that I couldn't simmer the whole thing down into one chapter. Trust me, this isn't over.


	4. Chapter 4

When he wakes up, he thinks he's gone to heaven. The walls are white and his bed soft and he hears a soft voice nearby. He recognizes the words. They tell the story of the Resurrection of Christ. He recognizes the voice too.

“Sister Joyce?” 

But she doesn’t look like Sister Joyce. For starters, she seems to have abandoned her veil for a dog collar. 

“It’s Reverend Joyce now,” she tells him. “I thought that was you, Father Billy.”

“Where am I? Why am I here?”

“You’re in the hospital. I found you in that alley and brought you here. The doctor said it was a good thing I did too. You would have had some serious head trauma or died of exposure if I didn’t. What happened to you?”

Billy takes a deep breath and tells Reverend Joyce the whole story, though he’s fairly certain she knows one half of it. The half where he slept with a student among others. The half where he left without so much as a word. The half where he isn’t Father Billy anymore. As he tells his story, he half expects her to look at him in some form of disgust, but she never does. Instead, she smiles and nods as if he’s telling her any other story. 

“You’re not angry with me,” Billy points out.

Reverend Joyce simply shrugs. “Why should I be?”

“I took advantage of a student.”

“That’s not what I was told. Steve confided in me after you left. He told me that he was the one who approached you. Is that true?”

It was, but Billy won’t admit to giving in. His silence speaks for him.

“In any case, whatever happened, I don’t think you were in the wrong for loving another man. Don't look at me like that, Billy, I know you did. Steve told me the whole story. He also told me about your father and, believe me, whatever he led you to think about yourself is wrong. I’ll be honest, I was always a little more than skeptical about the church when it came to its views on love. That’s why I left not too long after you did.”

Billy’s eyes suddenly go wide.

“I found another church,” Reverend Joyce continues. “You’d be welcome there.”

“I don’t think so,” Billy says. “I don’t think any church would want me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Billy looks to Reverend Joyce with a quizzical gaze. He still hasn’t grown accustomed to her smile.

“The doctor says you should be here a week. You’re welcome to stay at my place for a while until you find your feet. Just come to church with me; just this once.”

* * *

As soon as Billy is released from the hospital, Reverend Joyce gives him a roof over his head until he can find his own. While he’s there he quits drinking, goes to therapy, and finds work in the community bookshop. 

Reverend Joyce’s church is a United church, which seems almost alien to Billy. He has never seen a service seem so alive. People dance to their hymns and say their prayers as they would read poetry. Above all things, he sees men with men, women with women, men who were once women, women who were once men, and they all greet him as a friend. He soon becomes an active volunteer in the community, beloved by men, women, and children. When he tells his story, he is neither shunned nor dismissed; he is simply loved. Young boys and girls, in particular, come to him for advice and the advice he gives is simple: “Love yourself as God does.”

That is when he is ordained and it feels like being reborn.

One day, after service, Father Billy is approached by a boy of perhaps ten. His face is almost like a girl’s and his eyes so big and brown that it makes him shudder. 

“I liked your sermon today,” the boy says, his voice soft and his cheeks red. “I thought it was really enlightening.”

Father Billy can’t help but smile at such a little boy using such a big word. “Thank you! I’m glad you thought so.”

“Is it true that you…?”

“Will?”

The voice calling the boy’s name makes Father Billy’s stomach jolt. For a moment he thinks he must be dreaming until he sees a familiar face to match that equally familiar voice. The man stepping towards him almost resembles the boy he once knew, but has abandoned his school uniform for a tweed suit and those unmistakable eyes are magnified by a pair of glasses. Billy opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. 

“Will, what have I told you about running off?”

The boy looks up to his father with a smile. “I only wanted to say hi.”

“I can say hi. Why don’t you go play with your friends?”

Little Will does exactly that. Billy watches as he runs to five boys and a girl his age and turns back to Steve, whose smile is softer than he remembers.

“Hi, Billy.”

* * *

Father Billy sees Steve Harrington and his son at church often until he bucks up the courage to ask him for coffee. He expects to meet him at a local coffee shop. Instead, he agrees to knock on Steve’s door as Will is on a week-long field trip. When the door opens, Steve almost resembles the boy he once was, though his smile hasn’t changed at all. 

“Come in,” he says. “Hope you like the place.”

Billy does like the place, he has to admit. It’s nothing like the cold and dingy apartments that he’d grown so used to in the past few years, nor is it anything like the parish he once cherished. Steve’s home is warm and welcoming. There are shelves full of books both old and new and the pictures on the walls tell the story of a happy family. Billy recognizes Steve, of course, but not the pretty blonde woman in the white dress.

“Is that your wife?” he asks.

“Kind of,” Steve says with a weak smile. “We’re getting a divorce.”

Billy looks to Steve with bright eyes.

“I love Robin and she’s a great mom to Will, but we were never going to work out.”

“Why is that?”

“Because there was always someone else.”

Billy feels his cheeks go hot and his heart go cold when he thinks of the last time he spoke to Steve. He still feels it as they make small talk over coffee. Billy finds that Steve married his college sweetheart, works now as a teacher, is pending trial for divorce, and has a ten-year-old son. He talks about his son the most. Rambles, more like. 

“Steve,” Billy interrupts. “I know why you asked me here.”

The room is suddenly so silent, one could hear a pin drop. It only takes a moment for both men to realize that Billy’s hand is on Steve’s thigh. He snatches it away immediately and clears his throat.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

“Billy, I’m the one who started it. I…”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about when I left you.”

Steve stops, almost appearing startled. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. 

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” Billy continues. “I thought that if I left, it’d be the best thing for the both of us. I thought that I’d go my way, you’d go yours, and we’d forget that anything ever happened between us.”

“Billy…”

“I was wrong.”

The room is silent again. Billy looks into his now cold cup of coffee as though he’s reading tea leaves. “I’m sorry,” he chokes. “I’m so sorry.” He repeats it over and over like a prayer until he feels a warm hand on his cheek. Soon, his vision is blurred but for the pair of big brown eyes looking into his own.

“It’s okay, Billy,” Steve says softly. “It’s okay.”

But it isn’t okay. It hasn’t been okay for several years. He left the only person he’s ever loved who truly loved him back. He spent so long drinking himself into a stupor and fucking pretty boys. He prayed so long for the forgiveness he wasn’t worthy of. It simply is not okay. 

All of this and more rests on Billy’s lips until they are stopped by a kiss. Steve’s lips are every bit as soft as he remembers. Billy never wants it to end and when it does he wants to beg Steve never to leave him.

“Billy,” Steve says. “I started this.”

“Steve…”

“No, let _me_ talk this time. I started this thing between us and while I don’t regret it, I had no idea it would come to this. I really am sorry for that, believe me, I am, but I meant everything I said that Christmas.”

Billy’s heart leaps at the very mention of that day. He’d never forget it and must have been a fool for thinking that Steve ever could. It was the best day of his life. 

“I also meant what I said when you told me the day you left. I really did love you, Billy, and I still do. I never stopped. I don’t expect you to love me back, but…”

“I love you.”

The room is silent again. Billy has his eyes shut but can feel Steve’s on him. “I do love you,” he chokes. “I've always loved you.”

A soft sound escapes Steve’s lips and it sounds like something placed in between a laugh and a sob. When Billy finally manages to look at him, he can just barely make out the smile on his face and the tears in his eyes. Soon, his eyes are closed and his lips devoured by the deepest kiss he’s felt in years. 

“Billy,” Steve cries. “I missed you.”

“I missed _you_. God, I missed you! You have no idea!”

Steve chuckles through his tears. “Well, you must have if you’re using the Lord’s name in vain.”

“Oh, come here!”

Billy reaches for Steve and pulls him in for a more heated kiss. He is the first to part their lips to make way for tongues. Soon, he feels himself being pulled into the younger boy–no, the younger _man,_ now–and lead somewhere else, though he isn’t quite sure where. He almost feels drunk on his lover’s lips and it feels better than any drink he’s ever had. 

Before he knows it, Billy is falling onto a soft landing and Steve is crawling atop him. It isn’t long before every last layer of clothing between them is all but vanished.

The love they make feels like an old dance with new steps. Steve looks, sounds, tastes, smells, and feels almost like the boy he once was even with the little changes. Billy grows to like those changes and all but worships his lover’s body in the way he never had before, fascinated by each and every detail of him from head to toe. He traces the now stronger jawline with his tongue and finds hard stubble on a once soft cheek tickling his skin. He feels harder hands running through his hair as he trails kisses down a broader chest, a harder stomach, and in between stronger thighs. He takes him into his mouth like a holy communion and remembers the first time the younger boy did the same for him. 

“Billy. Billy. Billy.” His name sounds like a prayer on Steve’s lips.

As he continues to take every last inch of his lover’s cock into his mouth, Billy stretches Steve open, licking the hole every now and then just like he had the first time. Soon, Steve is begging to be fucked and Billy doesn’t dare refuse his offer. He climbs over his lover who, with a deep kiss, takes hold of his cock and pulls it inside him.

“Oh, God!”

Steve is every bit as tight as Billy recalls. Hand-in-hand, they move against one another so very slowly, as if to savour the long-lost feeling of one another. Billy savours every sound he elicits from Steve and remarks how similar he sounds to the way he did the first time they were together all those years ago. The thought alone brings him to pick up his pace. Their cries could be heard from the streets when they come together.

It starts again almost immediately after it’s over. Eventually, they lose count of how many times they make love. They laugh, they cry, they fuck, and before long they take turns. Soon, for the very first time, Steve is the one fucking Billy. He stretches him open ever so slowly and with the tip of his fingers finds a spot that makes his heart race and his head spin. Billy is in tears of both agony and ecstasy when he feels Steve inside of him. Steve moves slowly at first, then faster and faster and faster until Billy is seeing stars. He can’t remember the last time he came so hard.

Night later falls. Their energy begins to fade, but Billy doesn’t want to fall asleep.

“What are you thinking?” Steve asks

“I keep thinking that if I fall asleep I’ll wake up to an empty bed in my old apartment.” 

“And where’s that?” 

“Hell.”

Billy hadn’t entirely meant it as a joke, but Steve laughs. 

“Well, if that’s not available to you anymore, you can always live here.”

Billy looks to Steve with wide eyes. “You mean that?”

Steve nods. “I’ve been thinking about it and I know that what we had in the past was…well, clumsy, if I’m honest, but what if we were to start over? Like, if I took you out for dinner sometime?” 

“Mr. Harrington, are you asking me out?” 

“Maybe I am.”

“Don’t you think it’d be a shock to Will? Seeing his father with another man?”

“Actually, he’s part of the reason why I’m asking you out.”

Billy looks up with a furrowed brow. “What do you mean?”

“I love my son,” Steve says softly and sweetly. “You’ve met him, he’s a great kid, but he’s being bullied at school because he’s not like the other boys. He’s quiet, he’s shy, he’s sensitive, and he’s insanely creative for his age. The other kids call him a fag because of it. I’ve tried to tell him that they’re wrong for making fun of him, but he’s told me that they’re not entirely wrong, since he’s gotten this crush on another boy at school called Mike. I don’t want him to grow up hating himself for what he is. That’s why I want to make this work between you and me. I want him to know that he’s not alone and that there’s nothing wrong with two men loving each other.”

Though moved by Steve’s love for his son, Billy can’t help but feel a dent in his heart for poor little Will. He had only met the boy once and couldn’t bear to think of him following the same path he did. Lord knows what he would have been with such a loving father

“He’s lucky to have you,” Billy thinks out loud. “I don’t know if he’d be as lucky to have me.”

“Don’t give me that. He already loves you, just like I do.”

“So, you’re taking me back?”

“If you’ll have me.”

Billy smiles brightly and reaches to kiss Steve’s own smile. “Only if you’ll have me,” he says. “And if you can do just a couple of things for me.”

“Which are?”

“The first thing is that, as much as I’d love to live with you and be another father to Will, I think it’s best if we take things slowly. I want us to get things right this time.”

Steve thinks a moment and nods. “I can do that. And the second?”

“The second is that you respect my faith. Despite everything in the past, it’s still important to me.”

Steve smiles, takes a hold of Billy’s hand, and places it to his heart. “Why do you think I fell in love with you in the first place?”

Billy has no other answer but another kiss and another and another until only heaven remains.

* * *

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

“Steve…”

“It’s been three days since my last confession.”

“We’ve been over this.”

“I have impure thoughts, Father, of a man.”

Billy cannot help but smile when he sees Steve on his knees before him. He’s freshly shaved to appear the boy he once was, his suit almost resembles his old school uniform, and his smile is as wicked as ever. 

“You know,” Billy sighs. “When I asked you to respect my faith, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

Steve breaks character. “I’ve never seen you complaining, _Father_.”

It’s true. Billy has never had any complaints of Steve’s love for his faith. He didn’t complain on their first night together, or their first weekend away, or their first anniversary, or indeed their wedding night. Steve loves Billy’s faith, just as he would love any man or woman. For that, Billy cannot help but love Steve’s sinful nature, just as he would any man. Sometimes they joke that they are an angel and a devil in holy matrimony. 

Billy wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Tell me, then,” says the priest, as he gently traces his husband’s lips. “What sins do you have to confess?”


End file.
